Say My Name
by Loyolablu
Summary: [NOT a songfic, contains some slashy parts] Pietro is convinced he has a sure-fire way to determine the identity of his true love. **Chapter three! Prince Pietro makes his case**
1. Looking for love . . .

A/N: Takes place after "Mindbender." Please R&R  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own any of these characters. So there.  
  
  
"This is the day, boys and girl. You can mark the date - April 12 -- as the one in which Pietro Maximoff found his perfect mate." The white-haired teen, flanked by his Brotherhood housemates, strutted into Bayville High with an excited expression on his handsome face. "Yup I can feel it . . . I can ~smell~ love in the air."  
  
"You're smelling mildew, and today's the 10th, idiot." Lance Alvers, looking less than enthused, shuffled tiredly down the hall, barely able to keep his eyes open. "And I still think what you're doing is stupid--"  
  
"Yeah, Speedy. I mean, I know everyone wants your hot body," Tabitha Smith said, poking him playfully. "But there's got to be a better way than ~this~ of finding your true love."  
  
"Yeah, yo. Why don't you just put names in a hat?" Todd Tolensky asked. "You'd have better luck with that than what you're doing now."  
  
"Which you've been trying for a week." This came from Fred Dukes, who was lagging a little behind the group munching an apple. "With ~no~ luck."  
  
"And you've pissed us all off with your whining," Lance rejoined. "So quit it, and just ask her out, already."  
  
"Or ask ~him~ out," Todd added.  
  
"I still can't get over the "him" part," Tabby whispered to Todd. "I mean, if Speedy's gonna swing both ways, can't he have better taste?"  
  
"I will not ask ~anybody~ out until they've passed the test," Pietro said as they approached their lockers. "Not even . . . those two. If either of them is my true love, then I'll know before the day is out."  
  
"What if both of 'em pass?" Todd asked, leaning against Pietro's locker. "Then what do you do?"  
  
Pietro halted in the process of collecting his books. "Hmmm . . . that would be . . . interesting. I wouldn't mind having both." He smiled at the thought. "But it won't happen. Though I'm more than enough man for many, I'm fated to love only one."  
  
"And who told you that? Mr. Carnival-Psychic Guy?" Tabby smirked, slamming her locker shut. She laughed loud when Pietro nodded. "You say you're quick on the ball, Speedy, but this time, looks like someone hit you in the head with one. Anyone could see that guy was phony. Even the freaky lines on his face were drawn with cheap lipstick."  
  
"Ha." Pietro stiffened as snickers rose around him. "Laugh if you want . . . but I'm telling you: going to see Mesmero was like . . . a revelation." His face softened a little at the memory. "It was incredible . . . I looked at him, and I just got this feeling. It's hard to explain . . . it was just . . . wow." Pietro shifted under the dubious stares of Lance, Todd and Tabitha. "You would have had to have been there."  
  
"Freddy, ~you~ were there," Tabby said, turning to the giant blond. "Did you feel any connection with the freaky psychic guy?"  
  
"He was ~not~ a psychic! He was a mind-reader!" Pietro said in an indignant voice. "Biiiiig difference!"  
  
"Well, excuuuuse me." Tabby rolled her eyes. "Freddy, Did you feel any ~connection~ with the freaky mind-reading guy?"  
  
"I thought he was some kinda hypnotist," Todd said, puzzled. "I mean it would kind of make sense-"  
  
"Psychic, hypnotist, mind-reader, swindler . . .What-EVER he was." The young blonde girl shrugged. "Well, Freddy?"  
  
"Actually, I did sorta feel something," Fred answered, scrunching his face into a thoughtful expression. "It ~was~ weird. I looked into his eyes for awhile, and I felt like . . . like . . ."  
  
"Yeah?" Todd prodded as they all stared at the large teen. "Like what?"  
  
"Like . . . like going out and stealing stuff that would enable him to bring a new and all-powerful mutant to our dimension that would catastrophically affect the lives of everyone on Earth."   
  
There was a minute of silence in which the only sound that could be heard was Fred eating the rest of his apple. After a moment, the immovable mutant noticed the slack-jawed stares of his friends.   
  
"What?" he asked, with a shrug. "It's true. That's how it felt. But then I ate a chili dog, and the feeling passed. No big deal."  
  
"I'm ignoring all of you," Pietro said, scooping up his backpack. "He said that he knew that I was looking for my ~other~ half -- my soul mate -- and that the only way I could find him or her was to weed out the contenders using the criteria I have set on my "internal must-have list." There have been quite a few who have had some of the things on the list, and, of course, the "two" have measured up in almost ~every~ way . . . but no one has passed that ~final~ test . . . that last hurdle. But someone will." He smiled dreamily. "I know it."  
  
"How many things you got on that must-have list of yours?" Tabby asked, sidling up to the speedster. "Just out of curiosity."  
  
"Hundreds." Pietro answered, unblinking.  
  
"Mm hm. And out of ~curiosity,~ how many of them do ~I~ fit?" Her voice was a smoky purr near his ear.  
  
The silvery boy considered a moment. "I'd say . . . fifty or sixty."  
  
"Fifty or sixty. Out of hundreds." Tabitha wilted a little. "Oh."  
  
"That's pretty good, yo," Todd said. "~I~ only had six."  
  
"Six?" Tabby glanced at him sideways. "Do I even want to know what they were?"  
  
"Well, it would've been five, but I had to account for the tongue," Pietro said with a lascivious grin.  
  
"Ewwww! Speedy! I did not need to know that!" She buried her hands in her short hair. "Now I've got images of you and Todd and his tongue and . . . ewww!"  
  
"Not ~my~ fault what goes inside that little head of yours, Tabs." Pietro tapped her forehead. "And don't knock my list. . . it's helped me to separate the wheat from the chaff, the peaches from the pits, and now, I have all my potential candidates narrowed down to a very manageable 30." Saying this, he whipped out a sheet of paper. "All of whom I will see sometime during the course of the day. I'll be able to test them all . . . and one of them will emerge victorious with the prize -- my heart and undying devotion."  
  
"Hey . . . none of ~our~ names are on this list!" Tabby exclaimed in dismay, scanning the paper over Pietro's shoulder. She glanced around and saw murderous glares aimed her way by Todd, Lance and Fred. "Well, it would be nice to have ~some~ acknowledgement . . . we ~live~ with him, for god's sake, and put up with his stupidity. We've gotta love him to do that."  
  
"Well . . . no. Sorry. None of you made the cut. Lance came the closest - he had 75 of my listed criteria -" He smiled winningly at the dark-haired boy, getting a scowl in reply. "It's just as well . . . I don't particularly think it's a good idea to date the people you work with."  
  
"Except we don't work together," Todd said.  
  
"We don't work at ~all.~" Fred scratched his head in confusion. "You sure you got the right list?"  
  
"Geez . . . this thing is full of members of the Geek Squad," Tabby said, continuing to peruse the list. "Jean . . . Rogue . . . Shades . . . Kitty?! Wait -- no ~way~ Ditzy Pryde got more points than I did!"   
  
Lance's head snapped up, and he advanced dangerously toward the speedy mutant. "No Kitty," he growled low, a slight tremor punctuating his words.  
  
"Heh-heh. Now Lance, she fits a lot of the criteria . . . and, um . . ." Pietro gulped audibly as the ground began to shake noticeably. "But she won't pass the final test . . . I'm sure of it."  
  
"I'm sure of it, too," Lance said, still glaring at his friend. "'Cause my fist will pass through your ~face~ first. NO Kitty. Got me?"  
  
"Fine. Pryde goes." Pietro crossed the name out and scribbled something beside it. "Dani Larter will thank you, Lance. ~She~ was number 31 . . . just missed the cut. Now she takes Kitty's place on the roster."  
  
"Risty? Risty Wilde's on here?" Tabitha nearly choked as she reached the end of the list. "You put some freaky chick with purple hair and no fashion sense on there before ~me~?"  
  
"I like the accent," Pietro said with a sigh. "And there's just something very dangerous about her that's very sexy . . ."  
  
"My ass," Tabitha grumbled. "Nobody does excitement like Tabitha Smith." And as if to prove her point, the girl created a very small energy bomb, slyly rolling it among a group of cheerleaders standing in the middle of the crowded hall. The quintet placed their hands over their ears in a practiced motion as the tiny bomb detonated with a loud bang, showering sparks among the shrieking girls.   
  
"Bulls-eye!" Tabby crowed as the still-screaming girls ran by them, plowing through the crowd. "So ~now~ what do you have to say?" she asked, turning triumphantly to Pietro.   
  
Pietro thought for a moment. "I've always liked your style, Tabby, but I've got to give the people on my official list first crack at me. If none of them are successful, maybe I'll give you a shot."  
  
"You're all heart . . .~Pietro,~" she snarled, watching him narrowly. His blue eyes widened a little.  
  
"Not bad . . . not bad, at all. But . . . not right, Tabs. Not quite."  
  
"What? What? That's how I've heard everybody else say it!" Tabby shot angry looks at a snickering Lance and Fred. "PEE-et-tro."  
  
"Nope. You're drawing out the first syllable too long, and you're opening your mouth too much on the 'o.'" He shook his head. "Sorry. Looks like you are not my true love"  
  
"And ~I~ think you're full of it," Tabitha said, eyes blazing, "with your ~stupid~ test."  
  
"It's ~not~ stupid," he shot back. "Mesmero said that in my quest for the person of my dreams, I shouldn't have any doubts about them . . . and I have serious doubts about loving anybody who can't even pronounce my name right."  
  
"But nobody can! It's too weird!" she yelled. "I mean, who names their kid Pietro?"  
  
"Pee-ET-tro. Accent on the second syllable, and a little more roll on the r, please. You have a lazy tongue, Tabs." Pietro smirked. "Another quality I can't have in a mate."  
  
"Lazy tongue?" Tabitha said, with a sneer. "Yeah, Speedy. You just keep thinking that." She turned on her heel then and strode in the direction of her homeroom, disappearing into a classroom seconds before another energy bomb detonated near Pietro's feet, sending the speedster hurtling into Lance.  
  
"A sore loser." Pietro sighed, recovering his composure and ignoring the look of anger Lance shot him. "And she wonders why she's so far down the list."  
  
"Hey, look." Todd jostled Pietro's elbow and pointed down the hallway. Pietro followed the boy's gaze and brightened immediately. Standing straight up, he saw the crowd in the hall part like a curtain at the approach of one of the two persons foremost in his affections. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders in dark, shiny waves, and her skin glowed like a bronze jewel. Her face wore a look of bored indifference, and she strode purposefully, almost angrily, toward her locker, staring straight ahead.  
  
"Gorgeous. She is absolutely stunning," Pietro said, watching her remove a large, heavy book from her locker. "She could be the one for me."  
  
But she's so obnoxious, yo." Todd grumbled. "Always with her nose in the air like she's smelling shit or something."  
  
"She's cultured." Pietro's eyes wandered approvingly over her slender, curvy body. "And has incredible skills . . . of pronunciation."  
  
"You're scaring me, yo."  
  
"Hmmmm." Pietro wasn't listening. The cloudy-haired mutant stood staring at the lovely girl before him as if he wanted memorize every detail of her form - from the shiny, jet hair to the mahogany skin to her ramrod-straight posture. He sighed softly, wondering just the right way to approach the girl.  
  
As if sensing she was being watched, the girl looked up and over at him, startling Pietro. Regarding him with a cool expression, she smiled slightly, inclining her head at him. She looked away then, seemingly engrossed in something in her book.  
  
"She smiled at me! She smiled!" Pietro literally leaped into Fred's arms. "Ahhh . . . she loves me! She's the one! She's the one! Ah . . . she's the ONE!" Several students turned to stare at Pietro while he ranted, still cradled in Fred's arms. "And she'll be able to do it! I've heard her say it right before - Pee-ET-tro. ~With~ the 'r' roll."  
  
"Well if you know she can say it, why not just, oh, I dunno, ask her out?" Lance asked with a roll of his eyes.  
  
Pietro looked at the rock-tumbler as if he'd grown three heads. "Because I have to be sure, you know. It never hurts to be sure." He jumped out of Fred's arms. "But, oh, I feel my heart singing! I have my angel! My love! Oh, I feel faint. Catch me, someone!" Pietro swooned and fell, but his three friends made no move to break his fall, and the speedster ended up on the floor.  
  
"You're scaring me," Todd said again, backing away. "Hurry up and ask her already, yo. I don't know how much more of this weirdness I can take."  
  
Pietro got to his feet in a flash, dusting himself off. "Yes, you're right." He snuck another glance at the girl. She was still at her locker. "It is time for me to make my -"  
  
His voice died away as he saw a young man approach his dream girl. Tallish, blonde and handsome, the teen boy stopped in front of the girl, smiled at her, and began what seemed to be an animated discussion. Pietro's mouth dropped open. It was ~him~ -- the other who had top billing in his affections. The two individuals of his dreams were there together . . . talking.  
  
"Guess that settles it," Fred said. "Now that you know you like ~her~ guess you won't be wanting ~him~ anymore."  
  
Pietro gulped, watching the two interact. "I don't know about ~that~ Freddy. I don't know about that at all. He deserves a chance, too . . ."  
  
Pietro's attention was divided between the dark-haired girl and the light-haired boy, a fluttery feeling beginning in the pit of his stomach. ~What to do . . . what to say? Who to talk to first?~ He stood rooted to the ground, paralyzed with indecision.  
  
~*~  
  
Amara Aquilla glanced over her shoulder to where Pietro was still standing. The white-haired mutant was still looking at her, though he now appeared to be in some form of shock. She could see his eyes darting back and forth between herself and her companion, and her eyes narrowed: She was a little peeved that she was no longer the sole focus of Pietro's attention.  
  
"Hey," Amara said, poking her companion. "Look. Pietro is staring at us. What do you think his problem is?"  
  
Evan Daniels looked over the girl's shoulder, eyes narrowing at the sight of his rival. "Who knows? Maximoff's always got something weird going." A frown creased the black mutant's forehead. "I wonder why he's waving that piece of paper around . . ."  
  
  
TBC 


	2. The two

Two  
  
Pietro continued to stare at the two who were his heart's desire. He was a little gratified to notice that Amara was casting flirty little glances in his direction. Evan, however, was ignoring him, as usual. Pietro wavered - if he approached Evan first, he risked scaring off Amara. On the other hand, if he began with Amara, Evan would probably just take off.   
  
~What to do? What to do?~ Pietro looked from one to the other in growing agitation. Normally, he would have tried to amuse himself by trying to keep a conversation with both of them at the same time, but his mission was much too much important for game playing. Besides, they were too close together - he needed to test them independent of each other.  
  
He saw his chance as Evan, giving Amara a friendly squeeze on the shoulder, moved down the hallway. The girl lingered at her locker, removing more books.  
  
"Well. It looks like my morning is going to get off to a ~hot~ start," he said, turning to his friends with a grin. They all wore blank looks.  
  
"Hot start. You know . . . Amara . . . the walking lava pit? Lava . . . ~Magma~ . . . ~hot~ . . ."   
  
Lance, Todd and Fred continued to stare vacantly at the white-haired mutant. Pietro sighed. "Never mind. I forgot whom I was dealing with for a moment."  
  
"We get it, yo. It just wasn't funny."   
  
"Says you." Pietro smoothed his hair and straightened the collar on his sweater. His look had to be "just so" - all the better to dazzle his conquests-to-be. Not that he had to do much, of course. He ~was~ Pietro Maximoff, after all. Finally satisfied that he was as perfect as he usually was, he sauntered over to the pretty X-Girl.  
  
He adopted a "player's pose" - a lazy, casual slouch, hair falling messily, but sexily, over his eyes - on the locker next to Amara's, and for a moment, he indulged the girl while she pretended not to know he was there.   
  
"Hello there, beautiful," he said at last, flinging his hair out of his face in a cool, fluid movement. "Miss me?"  
  
Amara gave him her patented disdainful look. "Not yet," she said, lifting her a hand. Flames flickered from her fingertips. "But you haven't given me a chance to ~hit~ you yet."  
  
"Oooh . . . we all know you're hot stuff, 'Mara, sweetie. No need for the visual display." Pietro grinned. "Besides, what would ol' Shine Head say about using powers in school?"  
  
Her mouth twisted into an annoyed scowl, and she lowered her hand. "What is it you want?"  
  
"'Mara, baby, why so hostile?" He flashed a dazzling smile. "Can't a guy just say hello?"  
  
"Not when the guy is ~you,~ and don't call me 'Mara." She glared at him. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to class."  
  
"What's your hurry? Still another 15 minutes before homeroom starts," he said, flinging his hair out of his eyes once more. "It's been so long since we've talked . . ."  
  
"I've ~never~ talked to you or any of your other . . . friends."  
  
"Well, now is the perfect time to start." He moved closer to her, smiling inwardly when he saw her blush. "You know, you are, without a doubt, the most beautiful girl in this school."  
  
She struggled hard to keep the smile off her face. "And you're so full of it," she said in the sternest voice she could muster.  
  
"Me? Oh no," he said softly, speaking close to her ear. "You're a knockout. And you know it, too. That kind of confidence is sexy."  
  
Amara stifled a giggle. "You're an idiot," she said, looking at him through demurely lowered lashes. She and the other new recruits had been warned to limit their interaction with members of the Brotherhood, and most of them had complied. It was hard, however, to ignore Pietro. He was gorgeous, intelligent, seemed to dress with a modicum of style and taste. Besides, he was smart enough to want her. But he was still, technically, the enemy. And his Brotherhood buddies couldn't dress - at all. "Why are you being so nice? What are you after?"   
  
"Other than your heart, absolutely nothing," he said with a dramatic sigh, prompting another giggle. He eyed the load of books in her arms, and solemnly shook his head. "A beauty like you shouldn't be lugging around all those heavy things." Quick as a flash, the books went from Amara's arms to his own. "Allow me, please. Your homeroom is 113?"  
  
"Why, yes." She stared at him dreamily as they started down the hall. Seeing the silver-haired mutant in a totally different light - namely that of chivalrous hottie -- Amara began to wonder if Evan's solemn warnings against his longtime nemesis were motivated by some sort of jealousy. It was known in the mansion that Evan had a something of a crush on her, and if he knew that Pietro liked her, too, well, no wonder he wanted her to stay away from the speedster. Amara smiled tightly. Two hot guys falling all over themselves for her. It was life just how it should be.  
  
"So . . . I hear you and the other newbies are really being put through it back at the Ranch - er Mansion," Pietro said with another brilliant smile. "Obstacle courses . . . curfews . . . extra classes . . . work, work, work. How dull. You should dump those losers and join the Brotherhood. We know how to ~live.~"  
  
"You must be mad. Go from a state-of-the-art mansion to . . . whatever that is you all live in?" She sniffed. "And just what would I get out of that?"   
  
"Well . . . I could tell you . . ." he stopped as they reached her homeroom. He leaned close - almost nose-to-nose - to the girl. "But if I do, I guarantee you won't be able to concentrate on anything else for the rest of the day." He waggled his eyebrows, and Amara blushed a pretty rose color, pushing him away coyly.  
  
"You are so . . . insinuating, Pietro Maximoff," she said. "I kind of like that."   
  
His smile faded. ~Dammit . . . she's saying it like Shades says it sometimes - Pee-AY-tro. Can't they spell? There's no 'a' in Pietro.~ "Um . . . well, yes. Oops. Look at the time. I'd better . . .er . . . go." He carefully placed the books back into the girl's arms.   
  
"You're a man of mystery, Pietro," she said, oblivious to his disappointed expression. "And you're right . . . it does get a little dull at the X-Mansion."  
  
Amara opened a notebook, scribbling something on a piece of paper. "Tear that there," she said, indicating the paper she'd just written on. He complied, staring at the slip of pink paper curiously. There was a phone number on it.   
  
"That's my private cell phone number," she said with a sultry smile. "I only give it out to people I ~really~ want to talk to. Call me."   
  
With that, she turned round and disappeared into the classroom, her silky hair swishing in her wake. He stared after her for a moment before moving away. Heading back down the hall toward his friends, he glanced down at the paper. Her cell phone number. Cue ball himself probably didn't even have it. Pietro sighed. He should have felt happy . . . he'd managed to melt the ice queen somewhat. But Pee-AY-tro? Uh . . . no. Not even for a babe like Amara Aquilla would he suffer such a gross mispronunciation of his exalted name.  
  
"Well?" Todd asked once Pietro came near. "Did she pass?"  
  
"Not even close. Pietro sighed. "It's a shame, too. She is really, really something . . . I thought that she was my special one . . . my love. I . . . I feel like my heart's been stepped on." His head drooped forward, and for a moment, Todd, Fred and Lance thought the speed demon was in tears. But then the silvery head snapped up, and the old smile was back in place. "But, oh well. Still 29 people to go." He looked around. "Anybody see where Daniels went?"  
  
"Uh . . . down that way, I think." Fred said slowly, pointing down the hallway. "But I what are you gonna -"  
  
**Whiiizzzz** A sharp wind cut the hefty mutant off in mid-sentence. Pietro was off and running to his next target.  
  
~*~  
  
"I'm veally vorried about this geography test," Kurt Wagner was saying as he and Evan stood near their lockers in a rapidly emptying hallway. "I mean, vhere the hell ees Java? I thought Java vas coffee. I think eet might be some kind of trick question . . ."  
  
"Well . . ." Evan began, when a sudden breeze tickled his nose and ruffled his shirt. "Hey . . . is it me, or did it just get colder in here? I . . . hey!" Evan yelped as the breeze became a whirlwind, and Evan felt himself being lifted off the ground, with Kurt watching in helpless amazement. "Hey! What's going on?!"   
  
Spikes raised on Evan's back as a familiar chuckle issued forth from the wind. The brown boy's eyes narrowed. Quicksilver. "Maximoff, put me down. Now!" Spikes protruded from his arms. "I'm not kidding. Maximoff! I - ahh!" The wind stopped and Evan found himself falling to the ground, his fall broken when he landed in Pietro's arms.  
  
"Now, Daniels," Pietro said with a grin. "This is the thanks I get for giving you a pick-me-up before class? I knew you were slow -" He set the blond on his feet in a flash. "But ungrateful, too? Hmm."  
  
Evan rubbed his head, which was still spinning from the 'trip.' "What is ~your~ problem?" He stared hard at his longtime enemy. "Can you ~not~ go a day without being a jerk?"  
  
"Ev, it's so fun to see you try to act all bad-ass," Pietro said with a smile. "But you forget you're talking to the guy who saw you bawl like a little girl when your stuffed lion was stolen at basketball camp."  
  
Evan jumped back, his lower lip trembling. "He wasn't just a ~stuffed~ animal . . . he was my best friend!" The blond buried his face in his hands. "How could you bring that up, man? I still haven't been able to sleep right! Oh, Roary . . . Roary!"  
  
~Dear lord . . . I'm in love with a guy who still cries for a tattered doll he lost over 10 years ago.~ Pietro watched Kurt's awkward attempts at comforting Evan with a jealous eye. ~If he weren't absolutely adorable, I'd kill him now, just to put him out of his misery.~  
  
"Look vhat you've done. You've made heem cry!" Kurt, patting Evan's back soothingly, turned angrily to the white-haired teen. "And ve have a test next period. I hope you're happy, Pietro!"  
  
Pietro's eyes widened slightly. Kurt came quite close to the correct pronunciation. He was only missing the "r" roll. ~Well, he ~is~ European . . . it would stand to reason,~ he thought, studying the German boy. Kurt would have made the list, but Pietro wasn't a huge fan of fur - blue or otherwise - and Kurt in his holographic form was decidedly less cute than the fuzzy, cobalt figure Pietro was used to seeing in battle.  
  
~Still,~ Pietro eyed Kurt narrowly. ~He's close. And Amara's out, so I do have an opening on the list . . .~  
  
"It's . . . it's all right, man," Evan said sniffling. "I'm cool. It's just . . . you know . . . remembering Roary . . . I just . . ." His lip trembled again.  
  
"Ja . . . I understand." Kurt nodded sympathetically. "Vell, ve better get to homeroom, no? I still need to study."  
  
"You run along, Fuzz face," Pietro said, pushing the German teen out of the way. "Me and Evan have some things to talk about."  
  
Evan did a double take. "We do?"   
  
Pietro simply smiled. Evan studied the pale boy for a moment, and then turned to his friend. "I'll be there in a sec, Kurt."  
  
"You sure? Mr. Villiams von't be happy eef you're late . . ."  
  
"I'll be all right." Evan nodded. "Seriously."  
  
"All vight. See you there." Kurt gave a last glare to Pietro before walking up the hall to his homeroom.  
  
"So . . . what do ~you~ want?" Evan asked his nemesis, fear at the edges of his voice.  
  
"Hmmm . . ." Pietro was looking past the blond and into his open locker. "Hold it: Is that a new board I see?"  
  
"Huh? Oh yeah," Evan said, glancing over his shoulder. "Just got it, man." He withdrew the skateboard from his locker. It was a midnight-black color, including the wheels, with a neon-yellow "X" emblazoned on it. "Top of the line. Smooth ride, glides like a dream. Best I've ever had."  
  
"Hmmph. I've seen bigger," Pietro smirked, looking it over.  
  
"Yeah, well . . . maybe." Evan studied his new toy. "But it's not the size of the board - it's what you can do with it that matters."  
  
"Oh yeah?" Pietro zipped close, getting in his archrival's face. "So . . . you wanna show me what you can do with ~yours~?"   
  
"Um . . ." Evan gulped, his pulse racing. Being close to the speed demon always made him nervous. Not just because Pietro was incredibly unpredictable, but also because he was one of the most beautiful human beings Evan had ever seen, and it was difficult for him to keep his eyes off the boy.   
  
Staring at him, the blond was aware that looking at Pietro Maximoff's face was like looking at an expanse of sky: the color and texture of the speedster's hair mimicked cottony, cream-colored clouds, his eyes were a placid, cerulean blue, and the arching black eyebrows above them, stark against the creamy complexion, were stormy - menacing somewhat -- but beautiful in their fierceness. The tinge in Pietro's cheeks ranged from the pale pink that precluded a sunrise to the deep red that accompanied a sunset. Evan squirmed under his enemy's gaze. It was hard enough for the brown-skinned boy to grapple with the knowledge that he was attracted to guys as well as girls. But to have a crush on the boy he'd been in competition with since they were both in diapers? It was almost too much to bear.  
  
"What do you want?" Evan repeated faintly.   
  
"You really wanna know?" Pietro came closer, his lips just scant inches from Evan's own. "Do you, Evan?"  
  
~Damn! He's gonna kiss me!~ Evan trembled in anticipation. ~I can't believe this! He likes, me, too! And I thought Rogue was putting me on about the stuff she heard him say about me while she was with the Brotherhood . . .~  
  
"Yes?" Evan closed his eyes. It would probably be a bad thing if someone like, say, Scott or Jean were to turn the corner at that moment, but at that point, he didn't care.  
  
"All right . . . well . . . what I want is . . ."  
  
"Yeah?" Evan quaked as Pietro's breath caressed his mouth.  
  
". . . For you to . . ."  
  
"Uh-huh?" The blond could swear that he could feel the speedster's lips on his own.  
  
". . . Say my name."  
  
Evan's eyes snapped open. "What?"  
  
Pietro was close - quite close - and smiling. "You heard me, Daniels. Say it."  
  
"Say ~what~?" Evan near-yelled, and the other boy backed away. "Maximoff, are you out of your mind?!"  
  
"Nope. Just thorough," Pietro said, glancing at his watch. "So . . . are you gonna say it, or what? Homeroom's in two minutes."  
  
Evan glared at the white-haired boy for a moment. Embarrassment and anger coursed through him. "You want me to say ~your~ name? Yours?"   
  
"If you would, please." Pietro nodded. "Yes."  
  
"Say it? Say it how?" Evan's mind filled with all sorts of ideas. "How?"  
  
"Anyway you want. Doesn't matter. Just a regular "Pietro" will do just fine." Pietro watched closely to see if his love object picked up on the proper pronunciation.  
  
Evan scowled at the boy for a moment longer, but then his expression changed to one of acquiescence. "Okay."  
  
"Okay?" Pietro smiled slightly. ~Atta boy, Daniels! You ~are~ a smart one.~ "Really? You'll say it?"  
  
"Sure. Just wait a second." He carefully placed his new skateboard back in his locker. Closing and locking it, Evan turned back to Pietro. "All right. Just say when."  
  
"Whenever. Now's fine."   
  
"All right. Here goes." Evan took a deep breath. "PIETRO MAXIMOFF IS A MAJOR, FUCKING ASSHOLE!"   
  
The words reverberated around the empty hallway, bouncing off the walls and echoing throughout the school. They were quickly drowned out, however, by the shrill sound of the bell signaling the start of homeroom.   
  
"There." Evan was breathing hard. "Happy?"  
  
Pietro shrugged a little. In truth, he was not. Evan had mixed up the syllables - emphasizing the first instead of the second - pronouncing it PEE-et-tro -- but he did get the roll of the "r" perfectly, strangely enough.   
  
"Thanks, Daniels. See you around." Pietro said blandly, beginning to walk away.  
  
"Hey." Evan grabbed the boy's arm. "For ~that~ you've made me late for homeroom? I'll probably get detention, and that means I'll have to wait an hour later than I want to use my board again."  
  
"Hey, life's not fair, Spykey," Pietro said with a shrug. "Sucks, but it's true."  
  
"Yeah . . . but you owe me, Maximoff." Evan pulled the boy close. "Big time."  
  
He dipped Pietro near to the floor, covering his mouth with his own in a passionate kiss. Pietro was too stunned to do much except return the kiss with an equal amount of enthusiasm. ~Man! I bet Todd's tongue has nothing on this . . .~ the speedster thought giddily.   
  
The kiss ended abruptly, and Evan stared at his nemesis for a moment before dropping him on the floor.  
  
"Later, Maximoff." Evan said shortly before sprinting over the silver-haired boy's sprawled form.  
  
Pietro lay on the ground, looking up at the mottled ceiling. His lips still tingled from Evan's kiss, and his back tingled - painfully - from where he hit it when he fell on the floor. The speed demon sighed a long, shuddering sigh. So Evan liked him. That was great . . . but . . .  
  
~He didn't say it right. He's an incredible kisser, but he couldn't ~say~ it.~  
  
He jumped to his feet, then, brushing off his clothes. "Well . . . this has been an eventful morning," he murmured to himself. "And I've only gone through 1/15th of the list." He took the crumpled paper out of his pocket, and with a great deal of regret, he drew lines through Amara's and Evan's names. Studying the list intently, he was aware that with his top two contenders out of the running, all bets were off.   
  
"Hey, like, you better get a move on."   
  
Pietro was startled by a voice in the hall. Kitty Pryde was standing outside a classroom, looking at him in impatience. "Maryann says you have the stuff for our History presentation. Come on . . . we've gotta go over it before class."  
  
"Uh-huh." Pietro's gaze raked over the slender girl. She was cute - no doubt about it - and Pietro knew that beneath the Valley Girl exterior, lurked a very intelligent young woman.  
  
~A ~very~ cute, intelligent young woman . . .~ "I'll be right there," he said with a glittering smile.  
  
She nodded at him, and disappeared into the room. Pietro looked at his list again, eyeing Kitty's crossed-out name with a frown.   
  
"Sorry, Lance, but all's fair in love and Quicksilver," he said in a whisper, adding Kitty's name back to the list. Stuffing the paper back into his pocket, he sped down the hall to class. 


	3. A Cinderella Story

AN: Thanks for joining me! I'd like to dedicate this chap to Phoenix Angel Suyari: We're all with you girl, and hopefully your story will be back on FF.net where it belongs, and also to psychodelic barfly who has posted a story here, and, I hope will post many, many more.  
  
AN addendum: Sorry in advance if Rogue's accent sucks. This'll be the last time I try to write her accent :(  
  
~Three~  
  
"Omigod, I was, like, so nervous up there," Kitty confided to Pietro as they walked from their history class to the outdoor lunch area. "I totally thought I'd forget everything. You were great, though." She looked over at him with an admiring smile. "I didn't think ~anybody~ could know so much about the Crimean War."  
  
"Welllll . . . I did read the book seventeen times." He tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. "Only took me 16 seconds."  
  
"~Seventeen~ times? "Wow . . ."  
  
"It was sort of a slow night." Pietro smiled easily, but inwardly, he was jittery. He'd gone through most of his list in the time between homeroom and fourth period - lunchtime - and not one of those he'd tested had been able to rise to the challenge. It had been disheartening for the speedster to hear person after person make mincemeat of his name. His list - so pristine and neat when he first entered the school - was now a calamity of cross-outs, scribbled-in names and more cross-outs. And, to make matters worse, Kitty, now one of his top prospects, had managed to go the entire period -hell - the entire morning, without saying his name once. She seemed on the verge of uttering it during their History presentation, but had been forestalled by their phlegmatic teacher Mr. Gorse, who managed somehow to draw "Pietro" out to seven syllables. The speed demon was not giving up on Kitty, however, until he heard his name from her mouth - even if that meant following her to the X-Mansion and risk getting shishkabobbed by Wolverine's claws.  
  
Though Pietro really hoped it wouldn't come to that. He'd just gotten his pants pressed, after all.  
  
"Seventeen times," Kitty mused. "I don't think I've ever read ~anything~ that much." Sunlight beamed down on them as they pushed through the doors leading to the expanse of lunch tables. "But then again, you ~are~ . . ."  
  
Pietro's ears perked up, and he turned sharply toward her as her words got swallowed up in the noise of chatting, eating students. "Yes? I am . . .?"  
  
She looked at him. "You know, you're . . ."   
  
Duncan and some of his cohorts passed by then, their macho guffaws drowning out the girl's voice. Pietro felt ready to tear his hair out. He could read the girl's lips: she was ~saying~ it. She was saying "Pietro," but he couldn't hear ~how~ she was saying it.  
  
"I'm who?" he grasped the girl's wrist. "Who? Who?"  
  
Kitty stared at him, her blue eyes wide. "Like, are you okay . . ." A loud clatter as someone dropped their lunch tray cut off her last word. It was "Pietro" again; he could see the delicate lips forming the word - but dammit, he couldn't ~hear~ it.  
  
"Who?" he repeated frantically, wringing the girl's wrist. "What did you just say? Who? Who am I? Whowhowho?"  
  
"You're crazy, that's what you are, Speedy."  
  
Pietro dropped Kitty's wrist as Tabitha contrived a way to wedge herself between the two. "And you're gonna be dead, too, 'cause here comes Lance."  
  
"Lance? Um . . .uh-oh." Pietro moved to get away, but a large hand gripped the back of his neck, followed by a vibration that threatened to sweep them all off their feet. "So it is. Hi Lance. Ahhh! Hey!" Pietro yelped as the taller mutant thrust him to the side like a discarded gum wrapper. Pietro landed on his bottom - hard -- for the third time in as many hours as Lance, wearing a smile that was sweet as syrup, moved in on the petite blue-eyed girl.   
  
"Hey, Kitty." Lance's smile was wide and genuine. "Uh . . . I called you last night. Did Rogue give you my message?"  
  
"Yeah, like, she told me. I'm sorry I didn't call back, but I had a ton of studying to do." She smiled apologetically. "I, like, totally hate finals week. Don't you?"  
  
"Yeah, they suck." Lance nodded like an eager puppy. Tabby rolled her eyes, muttered something under her breath and stalked off to a nearby table.  
  
"My feelings exactly." Pietro jumped to his feet, attempting to get Kitty's focus on him again. "I mean, what's the point anyway? We don't learn anything useful - ooof! Lance!" he cried as the rock tumbler pushed him to the ground again. Kitty jumped in alarm when she saw the white-haired mutant hit the ground.  
  
"Are you, like, all right?" she moved toward the boy only to be blocked by a smiling Lance.   
  
"He's fine. Uh, so, Kitty . . . you busy after school?" Lance paid little attention to Pietro flailing around on the ground. "Maybe we could get a soda or something."  
  
"That's sweet of you, Lance, but I can't today. Maybe some other time?"  
  
"Um . . . sure. Some other time." Lance's smile drooped a little. "Uh . . . I'll call you tonight?"  
  
"Sure. Tonight." There was an awkward pause as Kitty watched Pietro struggle to his feet. "Well, I guess I'll see you two later." She smiled uncertainly at the two boys.   
  
"Okay. 'Bye, Kitty." Lance smiled dreamily as the brown-haired girl walked away, casting a look back at Pietro as she went. The fleet-footed boy thought he saw her say "Pietro," but he couldn't be sure from such a distance.  
  
As soon as she was out of sight, Lance's smile dropped and he whirled threateningly toward his cohort.  
  
"What the hell do you think you were doing?"  
  
"Uh . . . nothing?" Pietro readied to race away. "Er . . .talking?"  
  
"You were ~touching~ her." Lance said, his eyes glinting dangerously.   
  
"We were just talking." Pietro forced a laugh. "Uh . . . Lance? Um, why are you putting your hands around my neck - erk!" He gagged when the taller boy's hand tightened against his windpipe.  
  
A gentle tremor rolled through the ground like an ocean wave. "I want to see the list," Lance hissed.  
  
Pietro stared. "List? Er, what list?"  
  
"Don't play stupid with me. ~The~ list," Lance growled. "The one that Kitty had better ~not~ be on."  
  
"Oh . . . um, ~that~ list." Pietro shook his head. "You don't wanna see that list. ~I~ don't wanna see that list. That list is going to drive me insane." The silvery boy sighed when Lance released his grip, and the two walked in silence to a table at which Tabby, Todd and Fred sat eating and talking.   
  
"Aw, whatsa matter, Speedy?" Tabby called out as the two boys drew near. "The name game not working out?"  
  
"Pietro. Pee-ET-tro. Dammit, it's ~not~ rocket science." Pietro plopped disconsolately next to Fred. "It's ~not~ that hard. Is everybody just brain dead or do I just have really hideous taste in the people I obsess over?"  
  
"Probably both," Fred said around a mouthful of tuna.   
  
"No, the problem is, what you're doing is really stupid," Lance said, snagging a fry from Todd's tray. "Nobody's ~ever~ pronounced your name right, so why are you expecting it now?"  
  
"This is what I'm supposed to be doing. It might be frustrating, but I have to keep on." Pietro stared vacantly across the table. "I think I'm close: But it's hard. I mean, I feel like . . . like . . . Prince Charming."  
  
Tabitha nearly choked on her juice. "Prince ~Charming~? Oh, ~this~ I gotta hear."  
  
"I don't. Later, geniuses." Lance nabbed another French fry and then rushed across the quad to where Kitty was sitting alone on a secluded bench. Pietro watched him go with a slight pang of jealousy. ~Maybe it's just as well. She's cute, but not worth getting my head ripped off over.~ He watched as Lance approached her. Her face broke into a beautiful, spontaneous grin - one that lit up her delicately featured face -- at the brown-haired boy's appearance. Pietro's heart sank. ~Well, if Lance can find love, dammit, why can't I?~  
  
"Hey, ~your highness,~ don't keep us in suspense." Tabitha jostled him out of his musings. "I want to hear this theory of yours. How the hell are you anything like a guy in a lame-ass fairytale?"  
  
"All right look: Prince Charming's this gorgeous, rich, fantastic guy. Most eligible bachelor in town." Pietro rested his chin in his hand. "And everyone wants him - and why not? He's a prince. And he's gorgeous, rich and pretty much perfect in every way."  
  
"Now you can't tell me you didn't know where this was going," Todd muttered in Tabitha's ear. "Thanks a lot."  
  
"He's looking for his Princess Charming, and thousands -- no millions -- of women want him," Pietro went on. "But he meets Cinderella, and that's it. He's met his perfect match. -- he has the shoe to prove it. The shoe that ~only~ one woman could fit. Now, if he had ~never~ met Cinderella, maybe one of those millions of other girls who were paraded in front of him would have been okay. Sure, Cinderella's stepsisters were butt-ugly, but not all of the people who were hot for the prince were dogs -"  
  
"Wait. Hold up: I thought ~Cinderella~ was a dog, yo."  
  
"Are you crazy?" Pietro looked at Todd. "Cinderella was the fairest of them all."  
  
"I thought the fairest of them all was Snow White." Fred broke in.  
  
"Snow White . . . Cinderella. It's Disney. Same difference." Pietro shrugged. "Anyway-"  
  
"Naw, seriously - Cinderella was a ~dog,~" Todd said with a frown. "I remember in kindergarten, the teacher told a story where they were ~all~ dogs: Cinderella was poodle, I think, and the prince was a German shepherd, and the stepsisters were Rottweilers. . ."  
  
"Gross! Could you imagine a poodle and a German shepherd getting it on?" Tabby made a face.  
  
"I've seen it." Fred shook his head. "It was . . . wow. ~And~ I've seen the puppies from that mix. That was more than gross; ~that~ was scary."  
  
"Hel-lo, can we please get back to my very pertinent analogy?" Pietro glared balefully at his friends. Todd and Fred fell obediently silent, but Tabby went on loudly chewing her ham sandwich. "Anyway, I'm like the prince searching for my Cinderella. He had the shoe - I have my name. Only one woman could fit the shoe. I think that there are only a precious few that can say my name correctly without sounding like they're choking; I've gotta wait for that person. Anything less would be betraying my heart. But like it took awhile for the prince to find Cinderella, I think it just might take me awhile to find ~my~ true love."   
  
As he said this, his eye was drawn to a nearby table where Amara and some of the other X-Men sat. The lovely girl was laughing with her friends. The sunlight played in her dark hair, making it glow in some places like jewels. With reluctance, Pietro forced looked away from the girl only to lock gazes with Evan. The brown boy was sitting next to Kurt, who was next to Amara. The blond held Pietro's look for a long moment, his full lips curled into a sardonic smile, before he turned to resume his conversation with Kurt.  
  
"Yeah, it'll just take a little time." Pietro murmured, gnawing his lip. "Hopefully, I won't be dead before then."  
  
"Okay, I just have one problem with your whole little scenario," Todd said. "In Cinderella - uh, the non-dog version, I guess - with the shoe thing -"  
  
"There wasn't even a shoe in your version?" Pietro rolled his eyes. "Todd, where the hell did you go to school?"  
  
"It was a dump. I admit it." Todd shrugged. "Anyway, the prince guy at least knew that he had a shoe that fit ~somebody.~ Lance says ~nobody's~ ever said your name right . . . what if nobody ~can~?"  
  
Pietro paled. "That's . . . not possible. ~Somebody~ has to be able to. Someone in this whole, miserable world ~has~ to be able to say Pee-ET-tro, for god's sake."  
  
"But ~has~ anybody?" Todd persisted. "Besides, uh, your parents, I guess?" Todd paused. "Your parents ~can~ say it, can't they?"  
  
"Of course. They ~named~ me after all," Pietro said with a frown. "Well . . . Magneto can say it. He gets it right consistently."  
  
"Damn, yo. Sick as this may sound, maybe ~he's~ your perfect love."  
  
"~No.~" Pietro looked visibly ill. "Have you lost your mind?! Besides, family doesn't count, remember?"  
  
All movement at the table ceased as Tabby, Todd and Fred stared at the fleet-footed mutant. Fred had even stopped eating.  
  
"What?" Pietro asked irritably. "~What~? Why are you looking at me like that?"  
  
"You consider ~Magneto~ family? After what he's done to us?" Todd's voice was incredulous. "Yeah, I know he gave you that cellphone and all, but -"  
  
"Er . . . of course I don't." Pietro looked indignant, but inside he was beating himself up for the near-slip. ~That was close. If they ever found out the truth about him and me, more than just the Brotherhood would be history.~ "It's just that he's my dad - I mean, uh, he reminds me of my dad!" He blushed a deep red. "Yesthat'swhatImeant. Um . . . he sounds like my dad . . .uh . . ." He shifted nervously, noting that while Fred and Todd had resumed eating, Tabitha had remained still and was studying him narrowly. Pietro smiled nervously at the girl and was about to speak when a flash of white and a pair of piercing eyes looking in his direction caught his attention. He blinked rapidly, startled, his eyes fixed on a table tucked off in a discreet corner. ~What . . .? I wonder what's going on over ~there. . .~  
  
~*~  
  
Rogue hastily looked away when Pietro's startling blue eyes locked with hers. Furiously embarrassed at being caught staring, the girl busied herself with the biology notes she'd been pretending to study.  
  
"Here. Looks like you need this." Risty Wilde passed a beige triangular napkin to her friend. "Good thing I had an extra."  
  
Rogue aimed a puzzled look at the girl. "What's this for? Ah haven't eaten anything yet."  
  
"No, but you've been drooling for the past half-hour over a certain white-haired boy." The British girl smiled knowingly, laughing outright when Rogue blushed harder. "You're so obvious girl, it's almost cute. But Pietro? Doesn't seem quite your type. And I didn't think you'd give up on Scott so easily."  
  
"Ah told ya: Ah nevah liked Scott that way." Rogue toyed with the napkin. "Ya buy a guy a sweater for Christmas, and everybody's all over ya."  
  
"Riiiiight." Risty took a sip of her soda. "Well Pietro is less of a stick-in-the-mud than Summers. But he's a pain in the arse otherwise. I wouldn't get too attached if I were you."  
  
"Ah'm not thinking about 'getting attached,'" Rogue said, stealing another look at the boy. She was startled to see him still staring at her -- not smiling, not frowning, just ~looking.~ The gaze from those ice-blue eyes sent chills down her spine, and she found herself mesmerized for a moment. It had been an odd thing to admit to herself that she had a thing for Pietro - one of the enemy, and a consistently maddening one at that. The last thing she needed was her best friend in the world teasing her about it.  
  
"Ah'm not thinkin' about Pietro at all." ~Not like it would do any good ~to~ think about him.~ Rogue thought sadly as she adjusted her gloves. ~Boy hardly talked to me all the time I was living with the Brotherhood.~ "But ah saw ya talkin' to him earlier today. Ya sure you're not just projectin' your feelings on ta' me?"  
  
"Please. I have slightly better taste than to fall for somebody like Pietro Maximoff." The name rolled off Risty's tongue like a curse. "And you should, too."  
  
Rogue ignored the last remark. "Why ya say it like that? He do somethin' nasty to ya?"  
  
Risty hesitated a moment, caught off-guard by the question. "Yes."  
  
Rogue's eyes widened more in surprise at the answer than at the purple-haired girl's newly rigid posture. She didn't think Pietro had any interest in bothering ~anyone~ but the X-Men - Evan in particular. "He ~did~? Really? What was it?"   
  
~My son. He kept me from my son.~ The shapeshifter in disguise was silent as her gaze wandered to a distant table. Kurt's table. "Nothing I really want to talk about."  
  
Rogue frowned heavily. One of the things she enjoyed most about Risty was her willingness to talk about anything. To see her friend so tight-lipped was disconcerting, to say the least.  
  
~And about Pietro?~ She shot a sideways glance at her friend. ~I didn't even think they knew each other that well. I wonder what she could be so ticked at him about.~  
  
"So, when he was talkin' to ya earlier, he wasn't apologizing for whatevah it was he done?" Rogue asked lightly.  
  
A ghost of a smile skittered on Risty's face. "You're so hot to know what we discussed, eh?"  
  
"No!" Rogue said quickly - too quickly. "Ah mean, no. It's none of mah business."  
  
"Mmm hmm. Afraid I was telling him some of your deepest, darkest secrets about him?" Risty grinned. "Like how you were going to bribe Evan to bring home a pair of his gym shorts?"  
  
Rogue gasped. "Ah did no such thing!"  
  
"I know." Risty giggled. "But ~he~ doesn't. And you've got to admit; hearing something like that would be a surefire way of getting a guy to notice you."  
  
"Risty, ya better tell me right now that you didn't tell him anything like that." Rogue's voice was low. "Ya better tell me that, girl." ~Omigawd, what if she told him ~that~? What if that's the reason that he's staring at me?!~ "Risty?!" Rogue's voice was frantic.  
  
The teen only sipped her soda and smiled. "He found it quite interesting, you know. He wondered if you have a color preference. He has a blue pair, a green pair, a -"  
  
"Risty, ah swear ta God, ah'm gonna ~kill~ ya!" Rogue was trembling. "~Please~ tell me ya didn't say that to Pietro."  
  
Risty finished her soda, shrugged and got up from the bench. "Hmm. Well - look at this." She nodded toward the open courtyard, and Rogue turned, her heart jumping madly as she saw Pietro walking across the quad - right toward their table - toward ~her.~   
  
Risty noted her friend's shell-shocked expression with a sly grin. "It seems you'll get a chance to ask him yourself." 


End file.
